Do You Know The Enemy?
by MidnightRhymer
Summary: Danny Messer had a lot of problems in his past. When one comes out of the woodwork, can he answer Lindsay's questions? DM/LM Horrible at summaries; read to find out more. RnR. Rating for later content
1. Preface Professional Lover

Preface- Professional Lover

Danny Messer rolled over in silence, put his arms around his wife, and tried to recapture the fragments of his dream; long gone.

_She_ had been in the dream; featured in it, none the less. _She _looked to be in pain. There was a lot of beeping in his dream, and Danny couldn't help but think that she was in the hospital. He was looking in on her, silence radiating from her. It was as if she were in a coma.

_Her eyes, once blue, were shut tightly, as if she knew that something was wrong with her. Her toes were arched in a tight convulsion, and Danny moved to massage her until she relaxed, as she had once done for him. But, before he could get there, she opened her eyes. Their blue color was darkened by pain and fear. She was crying, but the tears were not clear. They were tears of blood. She reached for him, and Danny went to grasp her hand._

_**Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.**_

___Briiiiiiiiiiiiiing!_ Danny shot up out of the bed and reached blindly for the phone. As he heard a faint, panicked hello, he turned to Lindsay's side of the bed. She snored on quietly, undisturbed by the loud ringing of the phone.

_"Danny?" _Mac Taylor asked from the other end of the line.

"I'm here. What's up with the early morning phone call? You almost woke Lindsay," Danny said, swinging his legs out of the bed and starting for the kitchen. He knew that Lindsay, as predictable as ever, would be up shortly, since she was so accustomed to his body heat near her. He was merely intent on starting breakfast, and warming a bottle for their young baby.

_"Do you know a Constantine Manderly, Danny?"_ Mac asked softly, already knowing the answer.

Danny froze, his left foot on the ground in front of him, in mid stride. The kitchen door spun in front of him, and he reached out to grasp the dining room table. Quickly, he sat down in a chair. The only thought that passed through his mind, beside _Don't wake the baby_ was _She married him. She actually married him._ Unlocking his jaw, he spoke. "She was Constantine Messer when I knew her," he said shakily. He still wasn't at all sure of his bearings, but the room around him had stopped spinning.

_"Can you come down here, Danny?"_ Mac asked.

_Oh, God. She's dead. He killed her. He finally killed her._ "Yeah, sure, but I'm bringing Lindsay. I'm gonna need her with me, Mac."

_"Have you spoken to her at all about your family, Danny?"_

"No, but now is as good a time as any to start."


	2. 1 Premonitions Spooky Shit, Right?

Chapter One- Premonitions; Spooky Shit, Right

Without a word, I hung up the phone. Quickly, I stepped back into our bedroom. She was still sleeping peacefully on the bed, but she was slowly starting to stir. I decided to let her finish it out and wake up on her own. Instead of waking her, I veered away from our bed and went to the door that joined our room to the nursery. I opened the door as carefully as I could (the hinge squeaked) and stepped into the baby's room.

In the white crib that I had needed four hours to assemble, our little miracle slept on, blissfully unaware of the pain her father was in. Gently, I lifted her from the crib, and cradled her in my arms. With baby Amanda to hold me to my reality, I let my mind drift back to my younger sister's graduation day.

It was the last, blissfully happy time that I can remember with her. I only had one physical manifestation left of it; a portrait that was on the wall in the kitchen that I had entered from the baby's room. Instead of going to the fridge to grab a bottle, I veered to the portrait on the wall instead. Lindsay had never asked about it, fearing my reaction to a question about the forbidden subject of my family, I suppose. I was grateful; while it was the happiest time of my life, it dredged the lake of my memories and brought up things I never wished to think about; a time and a place that I had never had the desire to visit.

Constantine was in her deep burgundy graduation gown; cap planted firmly back on her head to hide the mess that was her hair. She had one arm around my shoulders, the other around Louie's shoulders. She was giving Louie the bunny ears. I had my arm around her waist; Louie had one around her shoulders. His right hand was twisted into a peace sign; my left was a set of bull horns. We were all smiling, and afterwards we had been laughing. It had been a good time. Tiny had graduated (we called her Tiny because she had been shorter than us) and we were having a ball. Silently, I pulled the frame down and flipped it over. With one hand, I pulled the back off. Behind the first, there was another picture; this featured all three of us Messers plus Flack, who was wearing basketball shorts and a muscle shirt, not that he'd had much muscle then. Flack had loved Tiny just as much as the rest of us, and he was the only one besides me, Lou, and Dad that remembered what had happened just three days after the set of photos had been taken. I put the back on the frame and re-hung the picture.

Jacob Manderly had ruined it all.

Tiny dated him in high school. She hadn't told us his age before the last time we saw her. He was seven years older than she; way too old for my liking. By then, we _knew_ he physically abused her, and had surmised that she had been sexually abused by him too. "I love him!" she had cried.

She had gotten engaged to him.

My father was dead set against the marriage. He knew that it was a bad idea, and he tried to make her realize that to. She wanted nothing to do with him. So, instead, she had come to me for consolation. "Go cry of Jake's shoulder. He's your fiancé now," I had told her; spat at her was more to the like. She had slapped me across the face and run away, tears rolling down her cheeks. Flack had been there to help me pick myself up from the sting (and to help me bandage the cut her ring had left across my cheek) but nothing could help me when I found out that she had moved.

My consolation had been that she may not have married the fucker.

Quietly, I pulled a bottle out of the fridge and put it in the microwave. While the plastic revolved, I turned to sit on one of the stools at the island. When I turned around, I saw Lindsay standing in the doorway, looking at the picture on the wall. I sat down without a word; our daughter still cradled in my arms, and watched her as she moved toward it. She pulled it down off the wall and came to sit next to me at the island.

"Who is she?" Lindsay asked finally, pointing to Tiny.

"Her name is Constantine Angelica Me-Manderly. She's my sister. According to Mac, something's going on and I need to go down to the station. I want you to come with me," Danny said, his eyes downcast.

"Let me go talk to Mrs. Rainier upstairs and see if she can watch Amanda for a bit," Lindsay said softly, and she stood up. She hesitated for a moment before picking the picture up off the counter-top. She hung it back up on the wall and walked out the door.

It's funny, how perspective and knowledge change a person for the better or the worse, depending on what that knowledge is. Before, I had been content with the knowledge that, dead or alive, Tiny was out there somewhere, possibly unmarried, and maybe happy. Those variables kept me believing that one day, I would see her again.

With the knowledge that she was, undoubtedly, married to Jacob Manderly, probably beaten within an inch of her life, and most likely saddled with the bastard's child, I couldn't help but almost break down.

"Mrs. Rainier says that she'll take Amanda," Lindsay said softly as she pulled a pair of my jeans on.

I pulled another pair (much dirtier, of course) on and tried to smile. I must have pulled my face into some semblance of a weak grin because she smiled back. Quietly, I handed her the diaper bag that we kept packed in case of emergency. She went out the door in silence, and I slowly worked my way toward the stairs behind her. She went up, I went down.

"Are you sure you want to go with me? I can- I can handle it by myself," I asked softly on the street below. If Tiny was hurt, I was going to break. I knew it, and Lindsay didn't need to see it. She didn't need to hear it.

"Start the bike, Danny," Lindsay said softly, and her arms were suddenly warm around my waist. Her head rested on my shoulder, and I could feel her heart against my back. She was quiet as the engine of my cycle roared into life. I took off, weaving in and out of traffic as I raced toward the station. Mac would be calling me any second, trying to find out what was keeping me.

"She's not dead, Danny," he said as we entered the office. It was the first thing he'd said to me since the phone call, and it scared me. If she wasn't dead, but he was so somber, then I knew something was wrong.

"Where is she?" I asked darkly, my mind trying to center on the next worse, and I refused to let it go there.

"She's in the hospital. I wanted you down here first so that you would know that it wasn't her husband. She has come forward with domestic and sexual abuse charges, and he is in jail now. She and her son were mugged half a block from here. She fought back pretty hard. She sustained minor injuries, but her son is in critical condition," Mac said, placing a bracing hand on my shoulder. "They think that they're both going to be fine. Her son is stable."

"Is it Jacob's child?"

"No. She said something about it being a long-ass divorce, I believe," Mac said with a small smile.

I returned it. "That sounds like Tiny; always a smart-ass." I could feel Lindsay relax a little. Not much, but enough. "Can we see her?"

"Yes. That's why I called you down here on your day off. Every chance she gets, she's asking for you. She said that she was 'coming down here to make amends' I believe was the exact way she said it," Mac told me.

I couldn't help it; a rock moved into my throat. I didn't know if I was ready to face her after what I had said. I had deserved the slap in the face she handed me; I knew that now. But, she had been my sister, and I had turned her away. _I have to see her sometime. I can't just avoid her,_ I thought.

"Let's go," I whispered.

It's funny, how dreams and reality blend. When I walked into her hospital room, full of beeping machinery and I.V. drips, my recurring nightmare invaded my mind again. It seemed like a premonition now. I shimmied up to her bed side, and looked into it. The white sheets were empty.

"DANNY!" I heard from the doorway, and before I could turn, a familiar pair of skinny arms were wrapped around me in a bone crushing hug that, from a distance, it didn't look like such a scrawny girl could muster.

She released me and I turned around to get a hug in. "There's my little black belt. How are you, Tiny?" I whispered into her hair.

"I ain't so little no more, Danny. And you can't call me Tiny. I'm almost taller 'n you," she replied. Her familiar Messer pronunciation was a comfort to me, and even though it looked as though she were missing a few teeth farther back in her mouth, she still spoke as if she were a NYC Messer.

"I'll always be able to call you Tiny coz even if you get to be taller than me, your age'll always be tinier that mine!" I laughed, releasing her.

"Who's she?" Tiny asked me suddenly, looking over at Lindsay.

"That's Lindsay Messer, Tiny. She's my wife," I said, reaching out for her.

Timidly, Tiny approached her. "I'm Constantine Angelica Manderly. It'll be Messer again in about three days," she whispered.

Lindsay held out her hand. Instead of taking it, Tiny approached closer timidly, and held out both arms. Lindsay carefully stepped into them, careful of the I.V. drip in a way that I never could have been. They clasped carefully, and I heard Tiny whisper "Welcome to the family."


	3. 2 Messer Family Welcome

_Ok, thanks to all of you who reviewed, firstly. Second: it's still me, I promise!i_

Chapter Two- Messer Family Welcome

"Why is it you never talk about your family, Danny?" Lindsay asked later that night.

It was late. I was sleepy. It had been a long day, and I didn't realize that I was answering until it was too late. "They're all liars and crooks, Linds; all of 'em. Tiny's the only exception to the rule. She's innocent as far as I'm concerned. She's never really done anything bad. So she married the wrong guy. That doesn't mean anything. She thought she loved him," I murmured.

And then, I bolted upright. I had just revealed what I thought of my family. Lindsay stared at me, her eyes widened in surprise. I don't think she was expecting an answer.

"I... Lindsay, I didn't mean-"

"You meant it, Danny. Don't take it back. It's the truth and if she can't handle it she married into the wrong family," I heard from the doorway. There, Tiny stood with Flack behind her. "Maybe it's time you told her what she married into."

I heaved a sigh and swung my legs out of the bed. I had hoped that maybe she wouldn't ask any more questions about my family, but Tiny was right. Lindsay had a right to know what she'd married into. I held out my hand for her; the ultimate test of her trust. She looked at me for a moment, then at my outstretched hand, and then she took it. I pulled her up off the bed and into my arms. I practically carried her into the kitchen.

"Shouldn't you be back at the hospital, Tiny?" I asked as I pulled up a couple more stools. Lindsay was seated at the island with her head resting on her arms. I could tell she was tired, but I needed to tell her while I still had the balls.

"Nah; they kicked me out about a half an hour ago. I only had Flack's number since you changed yours, so I had to call him," she explained, taking the stool I offered her.

"Didn't want you hangin' around the intensive unit, huh?" Flack chuckled, taking the other stool and sitting down beside Tiny.

"Are you ready for a story, Lindsay?" Danny asked softly, and Lindsay lifted her head off her arms. She nodded in the affirmative. "A long time ago, in a city called New York, there lived a little boy named Danny Messer. He had an older brother named Louis and a younger sister named Constantine. His father was never around much, but he didn't know why. As the years went by, he found that he had an excellent arm, and he became a pitcher for his high school baseball team. One day, on the college team he played for, he tore the muscles in his wrist. The doctors told him that he'd never play baseball again, and he was heartbroken. But Danny had an alternative. He enrolled in the Police Academy. But, suddenly, his father and mother were cold toward him. They wouldn't speak to him in public anymore, and in private they tried to talk him out of becoming a police officer. It was then that Danny discovered what his father did that gave them so much money. His father was a mobster, and a powerful one at that. Danny's dad didn't want there to be any conflicts publicly with his son. He knew that it was a bad idea for Danny to become a cop, but Danny would not be swayed, especially when he found out that most of his family was involved in crime. Even his own brother had had problems with the law. He didn't love them any less because of it, but he couldn't stand for what they did. When they expected him to, he left."

I stopped. Lindsay's eyes filled with tears, and her hand tightened on mine. Until then, I hadn't even realized that she was holding it.

"When Danny first entered the Police Academy, he had been living with his mom and dad. When he found out that his parents and family were involved in organized crime, he moved in with his best friend, Don Flack. His sister came with him, and even convinced their brother Louis to come with her. Constantine was a great help to Danny; a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold. The little family grew close to support each other. Even Don was included. But, Danny was so caught up in his own problems that he didn't see what was going on with Constantine until it was too late. Three days after she graduated from high school, she announced that she was engaged to a man named Jacob Manderly. Jacob Manderly was a mean, mean man, and both Danny and his dad knew that he beat Constantine. They suspected that he did other things to her too, like taking advantage of her. Danny's dad was downright enraged at his daughter's engagement to the man. Constantine was scared, and she went to Danny for help. Danny was mad too; mad that, despite what he did to her, Constantine loved Jacob. Danny turned his sister away when he should have helped her. Their support system broke down. Constantine left, and Louis was right behind her shortly. Danny only had Don left, and for a time, Don was too disgusted with him to help. He graduated from the Police Academy, but it was a bittersweet victory. Constantine and Louis should have been there. Their argument was stupid, and it had broken the small family apart. Eventually, Don forgave Danny, and they were still the best of friends. Danny got a job in the precinct and he threw himself into his work. He started to date around, but he never stayed with anyone for long. And then, a woman named Lindsay Monroe came to the precinct from Montana. So, Danny called her that. And he fell in love."

"When Constantine left," Tiny started in, "She married Jacob Manderly. Slowly but surely began to realize that Danny, Flack, Louis and her father had been right; Jacob was a bad, bad man. She became scared for her life. And then, two years ago, she got some bittersweet news of her own; she was pregnant. Twins; a boy and a girl were what she carried in her belly. Six months into the pregnancy, Jacob got mad at her. She said that she was leaving him; she didn't love him anymore. He came in from the garage with a pipe wrench. He beat her until she could barely breathe. She knew why she had to leave him; the babies weren't his. They were... another man's," Tiny stuttered. "But, it didn't look like she would have to worry about that anymore. She managed to get to a phone and call her old friend, Don Flack. Don came and picked her up after Jacob left and rushed her to the hospital. She went into an early labor halfway to the hospital. She gave birth to her daughter and her son. Her daughter was still-born, but her son survived. There was minimal trauma to him; she had managed to shield him from most of the blows with her hands. The doctors told her that the girl was already dead when the attack occurred. She filed abuse and rape charges against Jacob Manderly, and he was thrown in prison. Since then, she's been living on her own in New York. Recently, she started a job that she hasn't quite finished. She set out to find her older brother. When she finally found out where he worked, though, a man tried to rob her. She managed to throw the attacker off, but not before her son was hurt. She managed to get them both inside the precinct, where a man named Mac Taylor helped to get her son and her some help."

Lindsay looked at her with an expression of adoration on her face. "I can't even begin to imagine how hard it must have been for you to live like that. But... who is the father of your son?" she asked. "If I may."

"Um... maybe... if Danny'll leave the room," she whispered.

"Anything you can tell her you can tell me. I won't be mad or anything, Tiny. You know that."

She mumbled something incoherent into her hands.

"What was that?"

"I said Don's the father."

When Lindsay finally got me calmed down enough to see light and reason, Tiny and Don had left, I had woken the baby, and Lindsay was crying along with me. I couldn't see past the betrayal; the thought that Don had known for all those years where Tiny was and what was going on, yet he hadn't bothered to tell me anything.

"He knew the whole time," I whispered finally, sitting down on my bed.

"You stay right there. Don't move a muscle while I put the baby to bed," Lindsay commanded.

I heard her bustling around in the kitchen, cooing to the baby quietly as she calmed her down. As she did so, I recalled the incident after Tiny's admission.

_"YOU KNEW! ALL ALONG, YOU KNEW! AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME A THING!" I screamed across the room, Lindsay holding me back._

_"Danny, please, calm down," Tiny pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears._

_"YOU SLEPT WITH OUR BEST FRIEND AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN? YOU WERE MARRIED, TINY! MARRIED! IT WAS A SHITTY MARRIAGE, YEAH, BUT YOU WERE FUCKING MARRIED!" I screamed again._

_"Daniel Messer! Will you shut up and listen to reason for once in your damn life?" Flack snarled. "Don't make me pull my badge and take you in for disorderly conduct._

_"Get out," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Get the hell out and don't come back, Flack!"_

_"Guys, I think it'd be better if you left," Lindsay said from behind me, still trying to hold me back. Slowly, I was inching closer to Flack's throat._

"I shouldn't have done that, Linds. I shouldn't have said that," I whispered to what I thought was air.

"No, you shouldn't have. You've done a lot of things you shouldn't have, both tonight and in your past. You shouldn't have turned her away, you shouldn't have shouted, you shouldn't have tried to kill your best friend, and you shouldn't have told him never to come back. But, we all do things we shouldn't. We have to do things we should afterwards," Lindsay said softly, walking into the room and sitting down on the bed beside me.

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed a few numbers. Without a word, she handed me the phone. I put it to my ear.

_"Hello, Linds. Has he calmed down yet?"_ Flack asked.

"Yeah, Flack. I've calmed down. I... I shouldn't have reacted like that. You guys were always close; it shouldn't have surprised me that she turned to you," I told him gently.

_"I knew you'd calm down. I just wish Lindsay would have had you call while I was still at her apartment. She practically kicked me out; told me to go home to my wife for the night. I've been circling the block for a half an hour now. I don't know that I can get back in,"_ Flack replied darkly.

"You think she's up to something?"  
_"Danny; she has a nice set of straight razors that your father got her for her birthday. I'm scared to think of what she could do to herself with those. She didn't tell you at the apartment, but after our girl died, she was... she was heavy into the self mutilation. She'd drop Devon off at my place and come back five, six hours later with her arms all wrapped up. She said that she'd tripped onto some glass, or burned herself at the stove. I swallowed it because I didn't think there was anything in the apartment she'd do it with. But then I realized that she had a whole bunch of silver scissors sitting on the counter in the bathroom, and she had a professional knife block in the kitchen. I'd watched her sharpening knives too many times to count."_ Flack told me quietly. By the time he finished his speech I had already whispered a good-bye to Lindsay and was down the stairs and next to my cycle.

"What's her address?"


	4. 3 Fear

Chapter Three- Fear

I sped through the streets, a small red dome light behind the shield that flashed in the night. I ducked through cars quickly, and I saw Mac up ahead. I lifted one hand off the handle bars and held the paper with Tiny's address up. I slowed down to thirty-five and watched as Mac pulled the paper from my hand. Her apartment was just off Broadway, and I watched as his lights flashed and he pulled out of his lane to follow me. I swerved through the traffic, fighting my way to the place where I could see Flack's car.

I pulled in beside him and leaped off the bike. "What apartment?" I growled, starting toward the doors.

"You don't have a warrant. It's breaking and entering," Flack cried, trying to get in front of me.

"Watch me," I snarled, and I was headed up the stairs in no time.

"It's apartment thirteen!" Flack called up.

I hit the gate and realized that nothing was ever that easy. Instead of breaking it down, I doubled back and headed to the fire escape ladders. I could remember many years of sneaking out through Louie's window down the escape ladder, but I could never remember breaking and entering my sister's room through them. I recognized the apartment complex, though. We had lived in it briefly after I had joined the Police Academy; in, as a matter of fact, apartment thirteen. Silently, I stole upward. There was only one window that faced the streets, and it was right off the fire escape. It led into the living room and kitchen. Apartment thirteen was the equivalent of the penthouse suite at a fancy hotel; four bedrooms, a luxury kitchen, and a flat screen in the wall in the living room. It was on the first floor, but I had to run across the panels quietly to get to it. When I did reach it, I found it locked tight, as if she had known that I was coming. Inside, I could see one canvas shoe sticking out from behind the counter.

"FLACK! SHE'S ON THE FLOOR!" I screamed. Taking my gun from its holster, I cracked it against the glass. It shattered inward, spilling everywhere, and I ducked inside. There, I could see one leg of her jeans, stained a bright red. I could hear her crying, and I shot around the counter. She was sitting on the floor, tweezers in hand, tears rolling down her cheeks. There was a broken pane of glass on the counter, and blood coated slivers of it littered the floor around her. Her other hand was behind her in the cupboard.

"Danny," she breathed, but it was almost choked by tears.

"What happened?" I asked, taking the tweezers from her.

"I don't know. That piece of glass hung from the ceiling normally. In an instant it came crashing down," she cried, barely keeping her voice in check. Flack and Mac were through the window next without fail. Flack was at her side in an instant.

"I knew that thing was a bad idea," he snarled.

"Even you have to admit; it _was_ kinda cool," Tiny said, laughing through the tears.

She was still the same old strong Tiny I knew and loved.

"Ok, this shit is way too deep to be treated here. It's back to the ER with you, m'dear," I told her quietly. "Mac, take her other side. Flack, get her feet. Be careful of that arm. We're goin' out the same way we came in."

Carefully, we lifted her off the floor. Her white night shirt was stained a deeper crimson around her rib cage on my side, and I could see slivers of glass protruding from it as well. It was then that I knew she had not simply broken the glass and used it to cut with; the glass had shattered, and that kind of force had propelled glass everywhere. It was a wonder that it hadn't broken the window itself. Tiny had to go to a hospital, and I had the fastest way there.

"Here's what we're going to do," I grunted as we lifted her through the window. "The only way we're getting to the hospital without killing each other is if I take her on the cycle. To do that-"

"You're not taking her on the cycle. That's suicide. What if she passes out?" Flack snarled.

"Sitting RIGHT HERE! I get a say in how I get there, don't I? Danny's got a point; there's no way we're getting through in anything that can't weave in and out of traffic. So... we cheat..."

"We strap her to my back with everything we've got and I take her on ahead. You two can follow. I've got the dome light; I can make it," I growled as we reached the ladder.

"I'll go down. Lower her to me," Flack said, and he let her feet fall to the grate below. He disappeared down the ladder, and we heard him call out for Tiny. Carefully, Mac and I lowered her down by her shoulder and good arm, being very wary about her sliced up arm.

"I've got her," Flack called up.

"You've got me alright. You've practically got your nose in my ass," Tiny growled.

"Tiny, you'll live," I replied darkly, and we let go.

I was the third on the ground, and Mac brought up the rear. We made our way over to the cycle and I got on. Flack put Tiny on behind me, and she wrapped her good arm around me tightly. Carefully, he pulled some packing straps out of the back of Mac's SUV. "These weren't designed for this, but I figure they're as good as any. This is the release," he told me softly, pointing to a black button on the side. "I'm gonna strap her to ya as tight as I can get'r, ok? Hit the release when you get to the ER."

"I know how this works, Flack. Don't worry about it," I replied as he strapped her to me.

"Besides, I feel fine," Tiny said softly. I knew she was lying; it was an action she took to calm people down at their worst moments. She and I both knew that Flack was scared about something.

"I'm not taking any chances," Flack replied, and I felt him pull the strap.

As predicted, we made it to the hospital fine, but Tiny passed out. I hadn't been panicking until I felt her slump against me. But, when her head started to loll, I put the pedal to the metal and started to swerve erratically. I almost laid it down twice. When I got in the ER parking lot, I hit the release and rushed inside. My bike was barely in a parking slot, and I almost forgot my keys. I got her inside just as Flack pulled into the parking lot.

"Oh, dear. This isn't the first time I've seen this young woman in my ward. What happened? Did she hurt herself again?" the nurse said, grabbing a gurney.

"No, a hanging decoration in her apartment fell and shattered. She got hit in the spray," I explained as I sat her on the gurney. She fell back and the nurse was off with me beside her.

"I'll get her a transfusion as soon as possible and then we'll stitch those wounds."

"I'd poke around in there first. There might still be some glass in there. I knew that there is some in her side," I told the nurse.

"You mean you moved her without removing all the glass?"

"There wasn't enough time!"

"You didn't think she was going to bleed to death did you? She's not out from the blood loss. It's the pain that's knocked her out. If she had been out from the blood loss she would have been dead weight," the nurse explained, shaking her head. "The glass probably kept her from bleeding to death."

I stared at her point blank. I hadn't realized the difference between passing out from pain and passing out from blood loss. The only thing I could think about was how light she was; how much lighter she was from the last time I had carried her home, when she had passed out at Flack's graduation party. She had only weight a hundred pounds then and she had to weigh at least twenty pounds less now.

"Can you weigh her for me?"

"I don't have to. When they submitted her this morning she weighed... let me see, I believe it was sixty-nine pounds," the nurse told me as she settled Tiny into a room.

"Oh God..." I whispered. That was a thirty-one pound loss in the time that she should have been gaining a little weight back.

"What?"

"When she was eighteen she weighed a hundred pounds, give or take an ounce. She was pregnant not two years ago, which means she probably would have gained some more weight. How could she possibly have lost that much weight in such a short amount of time?" I asked her.

"She was treated for... bulimia about six months ago, I believe. When she was released she weighed about fifty-five pounds, so she's put on some weight in the time since she was released," she told me as she dug through her pocket to find a flashlight.

"Bulimia?"

"Yes. It started psychologically- You are her brother, Danny, right? The one person who can make the choice when she can't," the nurse asked quickly.

"Yeah, Danny Messer," I replied, and I pulled my jacket back to show her my badge.

"Good. It started with the psychological abuse she suffered in her own home, from what we understand. She was trying to make him happy, and then she couldn't stop," the nurse told me softly as she checked her patient's pupil contraction.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I stepped outside to answer it.

_"Danny, this is Mac. You'd better stay there at the hospital," _he told me quickly.

"What's going on?"

"Not five minutes after you took off, her apartment burst into flames. Sometin tells me that it was no accident that that decoration fell. Whoever made it fall was trying to make it so she couldn't move to get out," Flack said dejectedly, but there was a fire in his eyes.

Me; I was afraid.

_Afrozenheart412- As illustrated, Danny did not flip out because Tiny went to Flack (I honestly believe he would have wanted it that way). He flipped out because Flack __**knew**__ where Tiny was and never bothered to tell her worried big brother about it. Don't flip out at Danny. He's a bit impulsive; he is a Messer, after all lol._


	5. 4 Important Family Connections

Chapter Four- Important Family Connections

"I want to see my baby!"

"Mr. Messer, please, this is not something you want to-"

"Detective, I realize that you are an officer of the law, but that is _my_ daughter in there. She may have done some things that I do not agree with in the past but that does not subtract from the fact that she is _my_ child. I'd extend the same courtesy to Louis or Danny..."

My father trailed off as he stuck his head in the door of Tiny's room. I was sitting by her side, as I knew I would always be if she needed me. My earlier rage that he had dared to attempt to show his face here was forgotten. Even if I was a police officer, my father still cared. Still, after all these years, he cared.

"Hi, Dad," I whispered quietly.

"Daniel," he replied, but his voice was soft. He took a seat beside me at Tiny's side. I felt one of his warm arms around my shoulders. All we were missing was Louie and Flack.

Flack, of course, was at the office. His stand in was Mac Taylor, my boss, and his stand in wasn't doing a very good job, not that I expected him too. Flack was filing the report on the arson at Tiny's apartment. From what I could gather, he was also sitting at his desk trying not to cry in between papers. He was just as scared as I was.

"Have you heard from Louie lately?" I asked softly.

"He's at the hospital in Newark with his wife. She's in labor. He'll be in as soon as he can," my father said.

"Did they tell you what's going on?"

"No."

"We think she's the target of someone's rage. We're not sure who at this point, but she'll be in protective custody around the clock," I told him.

"She won't like that," Dad said quietly.

"She doesn't have a choice. When I leave, I'm going to see if I can get Flack to take her out of state for a while; make it a vacation between the two of them."

"I thought he was married," my dad replied.

"Was is a good term. He's getting a divorce. He didn't tell anyone but Mac about it," I replied.

"Why is he getting a divorce?" Dad asked. I could tell he was trying to stop thinking about things that shouldn't be thought of in the presence of a police officer.

"Because he and Tiny have a son. He's here, in intensive care right now," I replied without thinking.

I felt him stiffen. "He and my daughter had a child out of wedlock?"

"She was in wedlock, Dad... just not with him," I whispered.

"Danny, she..."

"She was raped by _him_, Dad! She went to Flack for consolation. They were always close, and she needed help. He helped her. He _loves_ her in a way that Jacob Manderly could never understand!" I hissed. "Don't blow this out of proportion."

My father relaxed in his seat. "So she told you about that."

"She told you before she told me, didn't she?" I said indifferently. She hadn't known where I was, anyway.

_Or had she? Flack was sticking it to her; surely she must have asked about me._

"She told me that she didn't know where you were. She said that she was hoping I knew. She had asked Flack but couldn't get anything out of him. It was like he was scared to tell her," Dad said. "Was he right to be scared?"

"Yes and no. I overreacted to the news that Devon was theirs and not just hers, but I... I calmed down after a while. I wish I hadn't overreacted, though," I whispered. "If I hadn't, she probably would have still been at my apartment."

"You can't blame yourself," Tiny muttered, and we watched as she sat up.

"You shouldn't be moving, honey," Dad whispered.

"Dad, please. If you're going to be here, don't try to order me around," Tiny growled weakly.

"He has a point, doll," I heard from the door, and I turned to see the speaker, though I recognized the voice.

"Hey, Don," she murmured, going back under.

Flack pulled up a chair beside her and grasped her hand, a place that was reserved solely for him. I hadn't dared to touch her because of Flack and his jealous tendencies. I knew that he was trying not to cry not because there was the possibility that we might not have gotten her out in time; we got her out and that was enough. He was crying because there was someone out there that wanted to harm what was _his_, and that above all else _pissed him off_.

"Hey; how you holdin' up?" I asked softly.

"I'm doin' ok. What'd the doctor say?"

"Well, they've given her meds for the pain. They took her down to X-Ray about a half an hour ago and found that they got all the glass out. They stitched her up pretty well, and she'll be able to leave tomorrow."

"She needs to be placed in protective custody," Flack replied.

"I was hoping... that you would do it."

"Why me? You blew up at me for-"

"I blew up at you and her both because you were my best friend and you had known all along where she was. It had nothing to do with the fact that you were sleeping with her," I cut him off. "She needs you. She's going to bitch and whine and moan about being in protective custody but that's the way it goes, alright? You're the only one who'll be able to handle her."

"Danny, if she tries to get away, there'll be nothing I can do. I can't hurt her-"

"You just have to keep her occupied. If it's you with her, it'll feel less like solitary confinement and more like a vacation. Take her out of state; away from this. She needs it."

"What about Devon? I can't leave him here!"

"It's time for my grandson to meet his grandfather, I think."

"He's only two. He's-"

"Don, stop it. If Dad wants to meet Devon let him," Tiny murmured.

"Honey, how do you feel about a vacation," Flack asked her.

"Sounds grea- A vacation?!" Tiny said, and she sat bolt upright in the hospital bed.

"Tiny, sit back and we'll explain," I said softly. She fell back against the bed, but her eyes were riveted on me. "About five minutes after I took off with you, your apartment caught on fire."

"Oh god... all of our clothes... the bed stuff..."

"That's not the worst part, honey. We think someone rigged the glass to fall. Someone wanted to make it so that you couldn't get out of the apartment on your own. The fire was isolated; it started and ended in your apartment," Flack said softly, clutching her hand in both his own. "You have to go into protective custody, and Danny and I would both feel better if you were with me outta state somewhere."

"What if they try to get Devon?" she whimpered. I was struck dumb. At this point, she would have been whining about feeling like a coward, yet... somehow, only her son worried her.

"I won't let anyone touch a hair on his head," Dad growled.

"... Don't do anything illegal, Daddy, please."

"I won't."

"What are you going to do? Dad, I have to know," I growled out in the hall in front of my nephew's room. _My nephew... Flack's son..._

"I'm calling in some old family ties."

"Important family connections, right? Let us take care of who's doing this."

"I will. I'm going to give you a name and then I'll back out, I promise. They owe me one, anyway."

A name... and then a face... and then we'd have it made.

I hoped.

_**Afrozenheart412: You are a very intuitive mind, but I can't tell you what's going on with her husband. It would ruin the whole story if I did! **_

_**And, a bit of shameless advertising; either today or tomorrow, I'm putting another one up. Stop by and check it out; you might like it!!!!!!**_


	6. 5 When In Rome

_Ok, gang; switching gears. We are Outta NYC!_

Chapter Five- When In Rome

"Ah, this is nice," Flack sighed, leaning back.

"We're in Italy and our son is in New York, and you can relax. Damn you," Tiny Messer said softly. Yes, her name was Messer, for a short while. She couldn't wrap her head around single life, but she was bound and determined to figure it out; one way, or another.

"How does it feel to be a Messer again, anyway?" Flack asked as he rolled up on his side.

They were lying out on the white sand beaches of Venice, towels beneath them and the fine soil. Flack wore a Hawaiian shirt (unbuttoned down the front) and a pair of Bermuda shorts. Tiny was beside him in the sand, a mere string bikini covering her.

To Flack's question, Tiny had no simple answer. To be a Messer again was to be free, but Tiny was still plagued by horrid nightmares. She was not free, and Flack knew it. But still, she tried to be a Messer again. She was just as sensual as she once was, just as loving and caring. Nothing had changed about her physical or mental attributes; only her subconscious did not realize what had happened to her husband, and it was her subconscious that warned her to be careful. _Maybe it's justified..._

"You're not there yet, are you?" Flack asked quietly, reaching over to take Tiny's hand.

Tiny brought her hand the rest of the way to Flack's and gripped it tightly. She shook her head lightly and watched as her hair fell to the beach. "First of all, I need a hair cut to be a Messer again," she said lightly, trying not to be as somber as she felt.

"Why'd you let it grow out?"

"I didn't have the money for a haircut... among other things..."

"You left it that way to hid the bruises, didn't you," Flack asked quietly, sliding closer to Tiny as he said this. She had to resist the urge to slip backward, like she always did when Jacob came too close for comfort. Instead, she let herself be pulled into a warm embrace, with their joined hands at the center. "D'you think Danny'll ever come around. He seemed a little... agitated at the airport yesterday, like he knew something we didn't."

"I think you're over thinking it. Look at who just dropped back into our lives, Don. Our father is a gangster, to the bone. The only reason he wasn't packin' at the hospital was because he wouldn't have been allowed within two feet of me. Danny would have shot him on the spot, no doubt about it. He knows that Dad's gonna do something; he just doesn't know what."

"And you think that one day we'll find our guy in cement sneakers?" Flack asked.

"I don't doubt it."

Flack rolled up on his side. He couldn't sleep; not while she was moving so restlessly in the bed. She looked as though she were running from something in her dreams; as if Jacob Manderly hadn't done enough physical damage, he had to wreak havoc in her subconscious as well. Flack draped one arm around Tiny's waist and pulled her a little closer.

"Shh... it's just me. There's no one here that's going to hurt you."

Tiny shot upright in the bed, Flack's arm still around her waist, and began to hyperventilate. Flack pulled her back down silently and wrapped both of his arms around her. In that cage of protection, Tiny felt her breathing slow, and then calm, to the point where she could ask her question.

"Don, what time is it in New York?" she asked quietly.

"About seven-thirty, give or take a few minutes. Do you want to call?" Flack asked in return.

"Please," Tiny whispered.

Flack dialed Danny's home phone, then thought better of it and called Mac first.

"Mac? This is Don Flack."

_"You're supposed to be on vacation, Don,"_ came Mac's smart-ass reply.

"I know, but I have a little girl here who wants to talk to her big brother. Is Danny around?"

_"Either your psychic or you know him too well; I'm not sure which. He's in the lab. I'll get him."_

There was a rustling sound on the other end as Mac put the phone down. They both heard the hinges on his glass door move as he opened it. They could clearly hear him call out Danny's name. There were footsteps, followed by some panicked questions in Danny's voice. Mac calmed him down by saying that "Tiny just wanted to talk."

_"Hey, Flack. Is she there?"_ Danny asked softly.

"It's me, Danny," Tiny said, taking the phone from Flack.

_"Miss me already, sugar?"_ Danny asked. Tiny could hear the smile in his voice.

"Of course I miss you. I only just got to see you again. How is everything out there?" Tiny asked. There was no smile in her voice, and she knew it.

Flack, however, was waiting for Tiny to reveal what her nightmare had been about.

_"Ask what you really want to ask, Tiny,"_ Danny said quickly. He knew about the nightmares; Flack had warned him about them the night Danny had stayed at the hospital.

"How's my baby?" Tiny whispered.

_"Devon's fine. I just talked to Dad about a half an hour ago. They've moved him out of ICU and into a regular room. They want him to stay overnight for a few more tests and then they're sending him home with Dad just like we asked them to. He's awake, and Dad explained to him who he was and what the situation was. He's very intelligent from what I hear."_

"He's in the first grade, Danny. He ought to be pretty intelligent."

_"You didn't tell me that."_

"I didn't think about it. I try not to. He's going to go to college before he should even be in high school."

_"You should be proud. He didn't end up with any of Flack's brains."_

"Hey, Messer. Watch it," Flack growled.

_"Which Messer? There's two, you have to remember that,"_ Danny laughed.

Even Tiny smiled. "Hey, have you heard from Louie yet?"

_"No, I haven't. I'll call him as soon as I get off shift. We need to find him and get him under surveillance."_

"I can call him if you want. Dad said he was in Jersey, so it might be a while."

_"No... I-I'll call."_

"Danny, are you alright?"

_"Yeah, we just got a fingerprint match off the wick for the fire. It was an unmarked envelope."_

"Well, who's the match to?"

_"Jacob Manderly."_

Over the next three days, Flack had to keep Tiny safely locked up in the hotel room. Every chance she got, she was making a break for the door, carrying on about how Devon needed her. About how, if Jacob had somehow escaped or had someone on the outside working for him, he was sure to figure out that she had left and start going after the people that mattered most. Flack called Danny for nightly updates and to antagonize him for telling Tiny who the fingerprint match came back to. Danny apologized profusely, but with decreasing sincerity. It was on one of these nightly phone calls that Danny finally broke.

_"Put me on the line with Tiny, Flack!"_

"Why, so you can tell her-"

_"DO IT OR SO HELP ME GOD, I'M COMING OUT THERE!"_ Danny screeched.

Flack, holding his hurting left ear, handed the phone to Tiny, who took the call locked up in the bathroom. When she came out, her eyes were streaked red from tears, but she seemed satisfied. Flack later wriggled out of her that Danny had brought her father in to the office to talk to her, and he had told her to quit behaving like a spoiled brat and to start acting like a Messer.

After that night, they started going back down to the beach again.

"Hey, Don?" Tiny asked softly.

"Hey, Tiny?"

"Wanna go hunt for seashells with me?" Tiny asked timidly. She wasn't asking Flack for anything anymore, and that scared him deep inside. It made him wonder just what Messer Sr. had said to her.

"Sure, honey. Let's go," Flack replied softly, and together they journeyed to the far end of the beach, where there were little tide pools that had seashells all around them. Tiny sat down in front of these and began examining the shells. Before long, Flack could see salt tears leaking from her eyes. He crouched beside her and wrapped both arms around her shaking form. Tiny just cried. There was no sobbing, no story, and no reason. She was crying because she had to, and Flack held her because he needed to. When she finally did stop, they were laying back on the sand, Tiny on top of him, and Flack looking down at her. "Are you ready to talk or do you wanna keep looking at sea shells?" he asked softly, sitting them both up.

Instead of an answer, Tiny knelt before the tide pool again. She began to pick up sea shells and look at them, but Flack recognized the way her hands moved. She was doing things to keep herself occupied while she found a place to begin. She found, however, that she only needed three words to let Flack know exactly what was wrong.

"They were right."

"After grad? When they confronted you about him?"

Tiny nodded.

"Were they right on both counts?"

Again, a small nod.

"Tiny, why didn't you say something? We would have done anything for you, you knew that!"

"I loved him Flack. I may not have before and I certainly don't now, but there was that briefest of moments where I found that I did. I had one then, and I had one at the altar, and those are the only two times I've ever truly loved him. I'll never have one of those moments again, and I thank the stars for that, but they were there. I don't regret them. The only thing I regret is losing what made me, me. I don't know if I can ever get that back," Tiny whimpered. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and Flack went to wrap his arms around her again, but she brushed him away. "Let me finish. Let me get this out and then you can do whatever you want with me. I don't care. But you have to let me say this and you have to try to understand it. I. Loved. Him. I hate that fact, but it's there. I loved him, and I hated him. I wanted him and I despised him. And I could do both of these because when you get married, it's like having schizophrenia. There are two little, itty, bitty people inside you; one that's whatever you were before; a Messer or a Manderly, or a Flack, even; and one that's what you became. And they fight constantly. The Messer in me demanded that I leave him, as soon as possible. The Manderly in me fought that. I had married him, it said. I had to stay with him, it said. Was it the right choice to stay? No. Did I really have any other choice? No. I didn't know if any of you would take me back. Danny wasn't as mature as the rest of you; I couldn't go to him, I would reason. Louie was God-Knew-Where; I'd never find him. Yes, all that time, I knew I was the only reason he stayed. You had probably sided with Danny in the end of it, so I didn't know if I'd have a warm reception there. And Dad... Dad practically disowned me the second I married Jacob; I knew that. And then, two years ago, you waltzed right back into my life just as I was getting ready to file for a divorce. I took advantage of you... I know that now."

"Tiny, you didn't-"

"Yes, Flack, I did. I may not have taken advantage of you sexually, but I took advantage of your kindness, and that could have gotten us both killed. You walked me through filing the rape charges; you took me back to your apartment, and it was just like old times again. But, there was one small tweak. I was pregnant, and you didn't know about it. A boy and a girl. I snuck out to get some stuff from my house six months later only to find that Jacob was home when he shouldn't have been. They let him go because of the rape charges. I tried to sneak out of the house, but he caught me. I told him I was leaving. I told him I was never coming back. He told me I wasn't leaving with his children. And then, the Messer in me took over. I told him that they weren't his children. I told him that I hated him. I screamed at him. And, he went out into the garage. I managed to get the door open, but it didn't matter. He came back in with a pipe wrench. You saw the damage. I don't have to explain to you what happened. But someday, Devon's going to wonder why we had all those pink clothes and hats with his blue stuff. And one of us is going to have to tell him why."

Tiny almost broke down. She almost couldn't go on. She had known, ever since the miscarriage, that Devon was going to get curious one day, and they would have to explain what had happened to his sister. But, speaking the knowledge aloud gave it a kind of confirmation; a date sometime in the future that could not be rescheduled until you just finally told them to forget it; you weren't coming in no matter how hard they tried. She would _have_ to tell her son exactly why his sister had died; she had told herself long ago that she would not lie to her children as her parents had done so long ago.

"I think I understand what you're getting at; what you're trying to rationalize."

Flack thought had once thought he understood Tiny's actions. He had been proven wrong once, during one heated, passionate night that had led to their son and daughter. He hadn't expected her to go all the way with him; had expected her to be gradual and scared. Instead, she had been confident and sensual. True, she had been shaky around him before, but she had gained the upper hand; she had _known_ what she was doing. Since then, though, she had not been as free as before. She seemed to think that she had been at fault, especially after she had gotten pregnant. _He_ had been overjoyed at the news, but she had seemed scared. It hadn't been until later, when she had told him the whole truth that he had understood why. She was married to the man who had raped her, and he hadn't known until she had sat him down and told him everything. Three cups of coffee later, they were both a little loopy, but she had been dead set against an abortion. After Devon had been born and they had both made it out of the hospital, she had gotten a job and moved into her apartment off Broadway, saying that, while she still counted him amongst her closest friends, she wasn't ready for anything serious. She had given him a key to the apartment, but they had installed a gate at the complex a year later, and he had to buzz her to get her to open the gate. The night of the fire was the first night that she hadn't opened the gate.

Instead of pulling away from him this time, when Flack opened his arms she fell right in. She curled up in his lap and tried not to break. With Flack as her rock, she did not break, but it was a close shave.

That night, Flack was awake long after he thought Tiny had gone to sleep. Her admissions had given him such an insight; her nightmares were memories of what he had done to her, repeatedly; she blamed herself for the loss of their daughter because she had willingly went back to gather up her stuff; she had given him a key to her apartment just in case she ever decided that she could go back. Flack's divorce, while everyone thought it was for Tiny, was not. Flack had told his wife everything, including the part about Devon. His wife and he had agreed that it was for the best if they separated if she couldn't handle the truth. She couldn't handle the truth, and so they separated. While it was because of Tiny, it was not _for_ Tiny.

"Flack? You should go to sleep," Tiny said softly, and he looked down to see her brilliant blue eyes staring up at him.

"I could say the same to you, ya know," Flack replied with a smile.

Tiny, instead of coming back with a smart ass rebuttal, sat up and drew her knees up to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on them. Flack stared at her as she sat in that position for a long while. She did not move, and so far as Flack could tell, she didn't blink either. She merely stared at the far wall, silence becoming her. It was such an un-Messer-like thing to do that Flack couldn't help but wonder if the Messer in her had died off when it realized that it had killed their daughter. He was drawn, once again, back to their conversation on the beach. He suddenly began to wonder if maybe there was a cure to her Messer-coma.

Very carefully, Flack sat up beside Tiny. Gently, so as to not scare her away, he pressed his lips to her shoulder blade. Tiny gave a gentle jump before settling back into Flack's semi-embrace. Slowly, Flack dredged his way up her neck to her ear-lobe. He gave it a gentle nip before he spoke in a dead whisper. "You know, I've missed you quite a lot."

As Flack's breath raced across the sensitive flesh at her ear, Tiny repressed a shiver. Quickly, and as un-new-normally as possible, she whipped around. Her lips were on his in an instant, and she had seated herself in his lap.

Outside the window, a single human in a black ski mask grinned darkly. The toothy smile was a promise of very, very horrible things yet to come.

Very, very Roman-brutal things.

After all, they were in Rome.


	7. 6 Hell's Kitchen History

_**Hey, guys, for all intents in purposes, assume Danny spent a bit of time in Hell's Kitchen.**_

Chapter Six- Hell's Kitchen History

I looked at the results on the screen before me and refused to let my eyes tear up. The DNA was a no result; it led nowhere. Instead of leading somewhere, it had come up blank, and that was beginning to frustrate me to no end. So, in deft silence, I moved away from the computer screen and away from anything else that was breakable. My fists clenched at my sides, and I heard the doors open. Mac walked in, followed by Lindsay. I felt Lindsay wrap her arms around me and I could feel her calming me down, but I was scared. If we couldn't find this would-be killer, I'd never get my sister back.

"Who, besides Jacob Manderly, would want to hurt Tiny?" Mac asked me quietly.

"Everyone in Hell's Kitchen, probab- That's it!" I cried. I was suddenly seeing what my focused mind had failed to see before. "The Hell's Kitchen Dealers!"

"What do you mean?" Lindsay asked.

"When she was about fourteen, Tiny assisted the old Narc division for a very large drug bust. Fifty drug dealers busted by the time they were through. Those dealers got an excellent look at her, and only one went in for a short enough amount of time to get out on parole right now. And he was the worst. He was involved in mafia work, drug dealing, and professional hits. His case was the weakest link in the chain, and he... is... out," I stuttered as I looked at the screen. He was released three days before the fire, and he had shared a cell with everyone's favorite abusive rapist; Jacob Manderly. _Damnit_. "He shared a cell with Jacob Manderly, Mac. And I can guess what they talked about."

"You've got a match on the DNA, Danny," Lindsay said, looking at the other screen.

"The sample from the envelope?" I asked quickly.

"Yes. It... Danny, it's Flack's."

"Calling card," Mac said softly.

"Flack, Flack pick up the phone, please," I whispered as the third ring hit.

_"Messer, what do you want?" _Flack groaned from the other side. In the background, I could hear Tiny's voice asking what was going on and who the hell was calling at five in the morning.

"Flack, whoever is after Tiny is after you, too! We have a name and a face, but his car's still MIA. The address was no good; he got kicked out when he got busted for dealing. He's out for good; his sentence is up, so there's no PO to deal with. I want you both back in NYC right now," I growled into the phone.

_"Danny, are you sure?"_ Flack asked me quietly. _"Because if you freak her out for no reason, I swear to God..."_

"Flack, Victor Mac and Jacob Manderly shared a cell together. Victor Mac was one of the dealers that Tiny helped to put away in the old neighborhood. Please, just get back here ASAP," I pleaded.

_"Is this a gut feeling or backed by science?"_

"Both," I replied.

_"We're on the next flight out,"_ Flack replied, and the line went dead.

I could only hope that they would be back in time.

"Tell me more about this operation that Tiny worked on," Mac said when I sat down in the break room. "And then, I'm sending you home."

"Tiny was fourteen, I was eighteen. She was about to graduate with me when Narc approached her at school. They told her that they knew she was in contact with some high up dealers in Hell's Kitchen, and they wanted names. They told her that they would make sure she didn't get her independent student permit to go to Princeton unless she went along with the op," I started, but Lindsay cut in.

"I thought that she didn't get married until she graduated. How does that work?" she asked.

"Linds, she graduated from _Princeton_ the day that picture was taken. She was engaged three days later, married in about six months. I didn't tell her to find another shoulder to cry on until about a week after Dad knew," I answered, clarifying the timeline. "Anyway, she _needed_ that indie student permit or she couldn't go; Princeton had stricter rules about underage students back then. So, instead of looking out for others like she had done all her life, she chose to look out for herself; her first selfish decision ever. In fifty days, she busted fifty dealers; quite an accomplishment for someone so unaccustomed to being unselfish. Boom-boom-boom, they were all incarcerated until it got down to Vickie Mac. Vickie Mac was everyone's go-to guy for heroine, coke, mescaline, pencil leads, and LSD. He even carried some out of the way drugs like Golden Sills. But, he covered his tracks well. He always wore rubber gloves, and when he threw the gloves out, he cut the finger tips off and burned them. Until Tiny came along, they only had a hunch on who was dealing to out the biggest numbers. Tiny saved him for last because Vickie had been good to her. So, late one Friday night, Tiny just saunters up to him, all casual and such, and asks him what he's got. Vickie looks at her before he pulls out a tag. He goes to hand it to her then stops. All slick-shit he says 'Word on the street is you're workin' with the man to bring down the franchise; that true, doll?' he asks her. 'Believe what you want. I'm here for the acid, but if you don't want the dough I can take it elsewhere' she says back, and turns to go. 'Hold it, hold it, hold it, sister. You don't need to be taken that sweet little ass anywhere,' he says, grabbing her shoulder. At this point, it was takin' everything I had to keep from punch this guy flat out. The cops in the back with me told me that if I didn't keep calm, they were sending me back home. So, I shut my mouth. I wasn't leaving my little sister out there alone. When we look back, she's handin' him the money and he's handin' her the acid, and that was when all hell broke loose. She froze, they took a picture, and then they pounced. But, he beat them to the punch. He had a lighter in his pocket, and he set the tag on fire. They could only get him for dealing acid. I know for a fact that every tag is unique to the dealer, but some also have goods _and_ services. They could have busted him for a whole lot more if Tiny hadn't asked for the acid only, but it was the only drug she knew for sure he had and she couldn't think of anything else. He went away for a long time, but not long enough."

"What did she go to Princeton for?" Mac asked curiously. If she had had an early hand in law enforcement, she might be of use; that was what was running through his mind.

"She had a quadruple major and was took two years for every two; one during the day, the other at night. She majored in criminalistics, criminology, biochemistry, and forensics. She then went on to complete training at the police academy, but she never got a job. She's certified, though," I answered carefully. I knew what Mac was thinking, and while I didn't necessarily like it, Tiny would jump at a chance to get back in the field.

"When are they coming back?" Stella asked quickly.

"They're on the first flight out," I answered as I stood up. "What's going on.

"We found his car. It's at the airport. He was booked on a flight to Venice," Stella answered breathlessly. "He's there."

_**Bwah hahahahaha!**_

_**(Afrozenheart412, the phone call and his being there have nothing to do with each other lol.)**_

_**Shameless advertising time; Murder City and Bad Touch are up; if you like this, check it out!**_


	8. 7 Brutality, Bestiality, Sexuality

Chapter Seven- Brutality, Bestiality, Sexuality

Flack felt his head loll to one side, and he opened his eyes. As soon as he opened them, he wanted to shut them again. They were in a barn. The only places in Italy where there were barns were places far, far away from any civilization. But, instead of shutting them, and ignoring the sharp pain he felt every time he moved his head, he sought out Tiny. And, he found her.

His one thought: _Danny's going to shoot me when we get out of this._

Slowly, his memory began to return. He could remember making it to the airport and running down the terminal. They had made it to the terminal just in time for final boarding, when Flack had gotten a phone call at the desk. And after that, he remembered grabbing Tiny's arm and running. He briefly recalled it being Danny's voice, telling him that whoever it was; he was in Venice with them. And then, as he tried to find a way back out, he'd been struck over the head. He could hear Tiny struggling with their attacker. Then, black.

Tiny was suspended from the loft, arms stretched above her head. Her toes barely touched the bottom of the barn. She had been stripped down, devoid of all clothing, and silent. Her eyes were closed, and tears had run down her cheeks in streams, cutting paths in the dirt on her face. Other than the dirt, she was unmarred. She appeared to have been subdued by threats alone, and she had complied to keep him alive.

Flack himself was kneeling, arms handcuffed behind him with his own cuffs. He was shirtless, but his jeans were firmly planted on his body. He didn't know whether to count his blessings or his curses. Unfortunately, he was rather stuck; he had a ton of curses and not a lot of blessings. Silently, he looked around and tested the handcuffs simultaneously. A man who had slipped up once surely had to slip up again.

It just wasn't looking to be any time soon.

"Detective Flack, how nice of you to be conscious for this," came a dark voice from behind them.

Flack rolled his head until he could see the source of the sound. A skinny man of about Tiny's age was standing across from Tiny, completing a small triangle in the barn. He was leaning nonchalantly against a support in the barn. He was dressed all in black, and a key ring was hanging from his belt loop.

"I make one selfish decision and you have to be the only asshole that can't live with the fact that he got busted," growled Tiny.

"Tiny?" Flack asked.

"Yeah," she replied.

Flack knew; she had a plan. How effective it would be, he didn't know, but she had a plan.

"You don't know how luck you were, do you?" their attacker said. "You have no idea what I was carrying in the briefcase behind the drugs. Narc wasn't even smart enough to strip it down. All my stuff; it's still in lock up. But, that doesn't matter. I've still got some very Roman things to do to you. And I think I'll start with the detective."

"No! Leave him out of this, Vickie! He didn't do anything to you. He was a kid just like me when that happened!" she snarled, and Flack watched her as she began to swing back and forth slightly.

Vickie Mac froze, moved over to her, and struck her dead across the face. "You don't move, bitch."

"I don't move if you don't touch him. He didn't do shit to you, you don't do shit to him, understand amigo?"

A malicious grin stole his features, and Vickie started laughing.

"You love this one, don't you? All those years with that loving, faithful hubby, and you fall in love with him?!" Vickie chuckled.

Carefully, Vickie Mac opened up another briefcase, this one as black as the night had been when Tiny had first outsmarted him. Inside, strapped down, were various devices that could be used in the torture of a New York cop and his abused girlfriend. Vickie knew how to inflict pain. He knew how to scare Tiny into annulling her testimony and getting Jacob Manderly out of prison. Silently, he pulled out a long curved knife. The tip was three inches back from the hilt, and Tiny recognized it as a fish knife.

"Who to start with?" Vickie asked darkly. "Who to start with?"

Silently, he made like he was approaching Tiny. Then, at the last possible second, he reared out and struck Flack across the face with the knife. A long, thin gash opened up on his cheek, but Flack was silent. There was pain swimming in his eyes, but Flack did not give the bastard the satisfaction. Without a word, Vickie turned back to Tiny.

"How does it feel to watch him be torn apart? I will break him, Tiny, you know that," Vickie growled.

Tears rolled down her face as she tried to strike him. She almost succeeded, but Vickie carved a deep gash in her leg. She held her breath in, refusing to scream, but she heard what Flack said all the same.

"Hey, how about you leave the little lady alone over there and come deal with me?" This was the New York version of "Pick on someone your own size," and Vickie knew it.

"Tell her to annul the testimony," Vickie snarled.

"I won't," Flack growled. "But you can beat on me all you like."

"Don, for once in your life, shut up," Tiny cried. "Leave him alone! He never did anything to you, so leave him alone!"

"No, he didn't do anything to me, but he did steal you from under Jacob's nose, and that's enough."

He struck her with the knife again.

"Vickie?" Tiny said sweetly. It was several hours later, and Tiny could barely breathe, but she had discovered something; Vickie couldn't breathe either. He was wiped from torturing them for so long. "You've forgotten something."

"What?" Vickie snarled. He dropped the last of his torture tools, a device that he had used to rip several pieces of skin off her legs.

"I'm still a Messer," she snarled, and her right foot, sole out, made contact with Vickie's face. She had contracted her aching, bleeding abdominal muscles, brought her now strongly disfigured lower body up like an arrow, and used her destroyed foot as a projectile. Vickie's neck snapped on contact.

"Ok, what's the rest of the plan?" Flack asked as he spat blood.

"Didn't have a rest of the plan..."

"Where the hell is he?" I growled. I knew I might just be overreacting to an extremely long flight home, but Flack was supposed to call me the second he got on a flight to London, where he would meet up with Mac.

My phone vibrated, and I opened it to hear Mac.

_"Danny, the last flight from Venice just came in and they weren't on it. Reports are coming in of someone witnessing a man and a woman matching Flack and Tiny's description running across the terminal at Venice, looking for a way out, but they went down a service corridor and no one saw them after that."_

"He's got them, then. Flack would have answered by now. Look, I'm getting on the first flight to Venice. If I know anything about Jacob Manderly, he's not planning on killing her soon."

At least, I hoped not.

"Ok, Don, what can you see about the rope?" Tiny asked. Flack let his head loll briefly in the fantasy that maybe she'd let him sleep. He was losing blood from places he'd never known he'd had. "Don, you didn't eat anything before we left, did you?"

"No," Flack replied. He'd been too wound up to eat, and he was paying for it now. He was _**starving**_ and bleeding to death and dying.

"Fuck, ok," she muttered. "We have... two days before starvation kills you, and I'm not leaving this barn without you. So... I have tonight to figure out a plan. You; get your ass to sleep." _But you've only got about eight hours until the blood loss kills him. __**SHUT UP!**_

Flack nodded weakly. She could see something he couldn't.

What Tiny could see from her position was the blood running down the back of his neck. Their attacker had hit him upside the head hard enough to do some serious damage during the kidnapping but had not touched it since. However, the blow was not fatal. Instead, it would probably clot up in a few hours. Head wounds were notoriously bad bleeders. Still, as he went to sleep, she prayed that he would wake up.

Tiny, very subtly, started to move back and forth on the floor, moving with her toes. When she was swinging to the point where she couldn't touch the floor anymore, she began to throw her legs out in front of her then back. Out, then back, out then back, out then back; the pattern began to repeat in her brain. As she had done during so many of Jacob's beatings, she tuned out the pain and cramps that were beginning to form in her body.

Out then back.

Out then back.

Out then back.

_**OK, I know, this is a gimp, pointless update. My intelligent, great, smart readers could have figured this out on their own, I know, I know. Don't start throwing tomatoes at me, there is a reason. These next updates are all filler chapters to (and, just in case you don't get it my friends, read the next part twice) **__**close off Jacob Manderly's chapter in this story.**__** He comes back later, but not in the way you'd think.**_

_**Now, I have a personal request, and I'd like your unbiased, undivided attention to detail on this. Have a preview of a story I'm thinking of posting!**_

_Preface- First My Country, Then My City, Last My Lover_

_"Captain Baker! Captain Baker!" came the cry._

_Captain Andretta Baker froze in the act of walking in front of the wall at Baghdad. She clapped her nightly patrol on the back as they passed her in silence. They had made it back in one piece, no bombs going off and not one person got shot. It was a good night when her men came back unharmed. A good night indeed._

_The runner skidded to a stop beside Captain Baker and saluted smartly. He handed the female Marine an envelope and took back off to HQ. Baker shook her head and ripped open the envelope. A smile lit her features, and her Gunny looked at her like she was nuts._

_"Captain Baker, ma'am?"_

_"I'm going home," she whispered softly. She was going back to New York._

_Flack looked down at the body and shook his head. The poor sap had been mugged and shot outside his own apartment building. He had just finished giving Mac the details and was waiting for another CSI to show up._

_"You alone tonight, Mac?" he asked softly._

_"No. I've got a new CSI on the shift. She found something at the alley down there."_

_Flack turned in the direction that Mac pointed to see a sharply dressed woman rushing down the path. She was running flat out, and she ducked under the crime scene tape without even breaking pace. Carefully, she set the cases and gear she was carrying down on the ground and handed Mac a brown envelope that was ready to be sealed with the evidence seal. Her long black hair was up in a ponytail, and her back was straight. She wore a pair of stilettos that seemed impossible to run in, but Flack had seen it none the less. She turned and crouched next to the body without a word. Very carefully, her gloved hands lifted the victim's hand._

_"I think that splinter came from a baseball bat. The splinter looks to have fallen out of his hand, sir," she said softly, her green eyes scanning the body carefully. She was calculated, and thought on her feet without needing to. She turned on her heels and grabbed a swab from the kit behind her. Beside the victim's hand by about three feet she had found a blood smear. She dropped a little bit of chemical on the swab, and it turned purple outward blue inward._

_"Whoa, blood over ecstasy?" Flack asked darkly._

_"I'm thinking body packing, sir?" she said._

_"Andy, you don't have to call me sir. I told you to call me Mac," Mac told her softly._

_"Sorry si-Mac," Andy said, blushing._

_"Flack, this is Andretta Baker. Andy, this is Don Flack."_

_Andy extended her hand to Flack, a soft smile easily spreading across her face. Flack gripped it, surprised to find calluses lacing the palm and pads of the fingers. Her grip was firm but not tight. She was calm for some strange reason, unlike Mac, who was hyped because of the crime scene._

_Andretta Baker was beautiful. Her long, black hair was tied back out of her eyes, which were a crystal clear emerald, an unusual eye color given the rest of her coloring, but she used it well. Her lips were plump and pink, begging to be kissed with the pout that was ever present despite her smile. Her chest wasn't oversized, but it looked like it'd spent some time bound up close, as if she'd tried to hide the fact that she was woman. Her body was a perfect hourglass curve, and her legs seemed to go on forever in the stilettos she wore. She was wearing a white woman's dress shirt, a gray jacket over it, and gray slacks. _

_"Hi," Andy said softly, and her voice was beautiful._

_"Hey," Flack replied, and they released each other's hands._

_Andy moved back to her crime scene and Flack tried in vain to banish the thought of what her lips would feel like on his._


	9. 8 When In Rome Part Deux

**Bloody hell! I've left you with... well... with nothing of worth while recognition. I apologize. Between school and work (plus this huge thing called a crush I've got on the boss man) I've been a busy little under paid, under appreciated, overworked intern... not. Under appreciated... more like over appreciated and occasionally over estimated. Overworked? Hah! not even close.**

**I'm rambling, aren't I?**

***smack***

Chapter Eight- When In Rome Part Deux

I took off at a run in the airport, following the blood trail with Italian police on my ass. I didn't care that they were shouting at me to stop; I was too busy following the blood trail that led right out into the loading dock of a bar. From there, I could see that some kind of van had been parked, and Tiny's skull suitcase was abandoned at the edge.

"Shit," I growled.

"Detective Messer, how would we go about this?" asked the translator. "It is not often that your American criminals come here."

"Do you have scent dogs?"

"Yes."

"Get them."

Tiny Messer swung herself up into the loft. She had gotten one step closer to freedom, but she had no way to untie the rope. Once she got it untied, she had no way back out of the loft. Once she got down, she had no way- _ONE STEP AT A TIME, CONSTANTINE MESSER!_ Her dad's voice screamed at her. _One step at a time._ Very, very carefully, so as not to rub her wrists any rawer, Tiny began to inch toward the edge of the loft. When she got within three feet, she knelt down and then laid herself out flat so that she could see and get to the anchoring point of the rope.

The hemp rope was anchored on the front support beam, which was at the very edge. There was a small patch of flooring missing from the loft, and Tiny could see that the knot wasn't very good. Carefully, she reached out with her bound hands, grabbed a small length of rope a few inches from the knot, and gave an experimental tug. The knot began to unwind. Carefully, Tiny pulled again, and the knot came undone a little more. Little by little, the knot was slowly undone.

Tiny Messer suddenly had an escape plan; an almost perfect escape plan that, if orchestrated right, could get them home.

I didn't care that I was sweating like a pig. I didn't care that I was probably going to find my sister and my best friend dead. I ran beside those dogs with everything I had. They had picked up Tiny's scent about a half a mile outside the airport, and from there we had been running down back country lanes past large vineyards. The barns were perfect places to hide two people, and we were so far away from any civilization that there was no way anyone would hear them screaming.

That was not a good thing.

Tiny slowly pulled the knot around her wrists free, and suddenly it was looking just a little brighter. She was still naked, still bleeding, still aching, but she was free. Now, to get out of the loft; carefully, she anchored the rope to the loft and threw it back over, out of her pool of blood. Without a word, she shimmied down the rope, landing on the packed earth of the farm house floor. Her legs buckled underneath her, and she went down in the dirt, effectively waking Flack up.

"Well shit, girl. I never thought I'd see a Messer escape artist," he said with a weak smile. Carefully, Tiny crawled over to him. She held up three fingers in front of his face.

"How many fingers am I holding up, Don?" she asked carefully.

"Three," Flack answered, looking at her.

"Bend your head forward," Tiny commanded.

"What are you doing?" Flack asked as Tiny probed the back of his head with her fingers. He pulled breath through his teeth when she hit the spot where Vickie Mac had hit him to knock him out. She removed her fingers for a moment, examined them, and twitched. Carefully, she parted his hair to get a look at the wound. She then lifted his head and stared at his cheek. She tilted his head the other way. She then probed his bare back carefully. She ran her fingers around his waist and then examined the wounds on his stomach and chest.

"Nothing's as deep as that gash on your skull, but we still need to get you out of here," Tiny said, moving behind the pole.

"I'd be more worried about you. You're the one missing chunks of skin out of your legs," Flack replied, turning his head to see her.

"But I've been through worse. You're lucky I got him when I did; he was headed for you with that thing next," Tiny said softly, examining the handcuffs. She reached around and checked his pockets for the keys, but didn't find them. "The object of this thing was not to kill us. Vickie was here to get Jacob out. He had to have carried the keys in."

Tiny stood up and moved to the dead body of Vickie Mac. She gingerly put her hands in his back pockets and came up with nothing. Carefully, she turned him over and checked his front pockets. "Bingo," Flack said when she held up a silver key.

"Hot damn; we may get out of here yet," Tiny laughed.

"He must have been running the girl and carrying the man. There was blood in that corridor; he hit him pretty hard over the head and knocked the man out. Then he threatened the woman with the death of the man to get her to go with him," the translator said softly, standing near me. I had fallen behind a while ago, unable to keep up with the dogs. I was just sitting down for a breather when I heard it.

"They are saying that the dogs are going crazy. Detective Messer, we must hurry," he cried, and we were off again, up the hill toward a giant barn.

I could hear the dogs scratching at the door.

"Have I ever mentioned that I love your brother?" Flack told Tiny, looking at the barn door.

"Hey, he's a happily married man," Tiny laughed, lifting Flack up off the floor.

"You're point; I know we're just cover stories for you and Lindsay," Flack laughed.

"Oh, yes," Tiny breathed, and she tried to get Flack to swing his arm over her shoulder.

"Oh, no you don't," Flack growled, and he swung her arm over his shoulder. "C'mon, we're getting to the door and then we're getting you to the hospital.

Tiny opened her mouth to protest when she heard the worst noise ever. Someone behind them was groaning, and there was only one person in the room with them that could groan.

Just as we got up to the barn doors, they were flung open, and two bodies fell out. I heard a third standing up inside the room, and I dove into the barn, gun drawn.

"Victor Mac, get down on your knees and put your hands behind your head," I snarled.

Groggily, he complied. I could see a foot shaped bruise on his cheek, and he was moving his neck awkwardly, as if he'd been given whiplash and knocked unconscious for a while. The Italian police moved in and cuffed the man on his knees as I went back out and knelt beside the two bodies.

"Hi Danny," one groaned, and I recognized it as Tiny.

"What just happened?" I asked.

"She panicked and threw herself at the door. I tried to stop her, but ended up coming out on top," Flack answered for her.

"Let's get you guys to a hospital. You're never taking a vacation together again; you attract too much trouble," I growled, lifting first Flack and then Tiny.

"Too much trouble indeed."


	10. Notice

NOTICE:

Okay, so I broke my flash-drive with all my files on it and dummy me never got around to backing the damn thing up. So, until I can afford to take it in and get it fixed or whatever, I'm going to _**attempt**_ to write from memory. I can't promise that I'll get all of the stories that I had up exactly the way that they are on the flash drive, which means that I may have to sit down and re-write them. I also can't promise that the flash drive will be fixed and data will be recoverable. In the event of this latter instance, I will finish from memory. And, who knows? Maybe this is a good thing. The thing was getting a little cluttered anyway…

Who the hell am I kidding?

Sorry for the inconvenience,

Midnight Rhymer & Management


End file.
